04

Eloise greeted the morning with a new outlook on life and a small ball of hope unfurling within her chest. At first glance she had thought Ginelle a mere child but at fourteen summers she was practically on the brink of womanhood; with no guidance, she thought solemnly.

She would never be the child's mother for in fact she was but a few years older than the girl herself, but she could be her mentor, teach her the things a mother should teach a daughter, she thought as she made her way down the hall towards the chamber where the girl slept. Immediately she stiffened at the abrupt chill of the room and she shivered as her eyes widened to find the bed unstirred.

Instinctively, her heart dropped. Had Ginelle run away? She stood frozen, gripping the latch as she searched the remnants of the room until she felt a wave of relief seize her as she spotted the curled, sleeping body on the floor near the hearth.

Her relief was quickly overcome with extreme displeasure at the evident chill in the room. Why had Ingrid not returned to rekindle the fire?

Eloise crossed the room and knelt next to Ginelle, gently rousing the child until those eyes of soft brown fluttered open and peered up at her, widening for a brief moment until recognition settled. She quickly sat up, turning her face away in slight embarrassment as she smoothed the wrinkles from the nightshirt she had been clutching through the night.

"Why did you not sleep in the bed?" Eloise questioned gently, "You could have caught a chill sleeping on the floor." Eloise helped Ginelle to her feet and immediately moved to the door where she and a maid exchanged hushed words unclear to Ginelle.

Eloise turned and smiled yet Ginelle sensed she was displeased, "I am sorry." She said, "I did not mean to upset ye, tis just that I-" she fell silent as the older maid Lucile came marching in the room, tugging a reluctant Ingrid in tow.

Ingrid barely cast a glance in her direction as she stood before Eloise, her hands tucked nervously in the apron of her gown. She kept her green eyes leveled to the floor as Eloise started, "Ingrid, you will have a breakfast tray prepared and brought to our guest and when you return I want a full explanation to why you lacked in your duties this morning and as for your idleness, you can see that the grand stairway is washed and scrubbed."

Ingrid curtly nodded, "Aye milady." She hesitated as if she wanted to say something in return but refrained and hastened from the room.

Ginelle stiffened; had she been the reason to why Ingrid had disregarded her duties? She felt the intense urge to speak in Ingrid's defense. "Milady, if I have troubled ye-"

Eloise composed her displeasure as both she and Lucile turned to peer at Ginelle. Eloise stopped her mid-sentence. "Do not fault yourself for Ingrid's mistake. She lacked in her duty this morning, therefore she is entirely at fault and it is not acceptable."

"Lady Eloise was lenient with Ingrid, far more than Master Dorian would have been." Lucile stated, the undertone of her voice relaying a clear message.

Ginelle averted her eyes to the older woman. She was a handsome woman, with austere features that indicated her proud disposition. Her gray hair was pulled tight into a chignon at the nape of her neck, not a single strand out of place. Her unwavering, dark stare made Ginelle uneasy as the older woman studied her return. Somehow, sensing from her rigid stance and bold stare, she felt as though this woman disapproved of her presence just as much as Ingrid but for an entirely different reason that was unknown to her.

Lady Eloise was lenient. Far more than Master Dorian would have been. Trepidation snaked down her spine at the older woman's words. She was certain that the older woman continued to warn her and every warning seem to focus around the Laird. She trembled on the inside at the thought of the man. Would he have beaten Ingrid for her disobedience?

A servant suddenly appeared in the doorway, "Forgive my intrusion, milady. A missive has just arrived for you."

Ginelle caught the flare of anticipation in those bright, blue eyes as Eloise motioned for Ginelle to take a seat. She settled into a chair as Eloise turned to say something to her dutiful Lucile. She stared at her retreating back before Lucile retrieved the nightshirt and placed it gently on the bed as Eloise left the room.

Instantly, Ginelle felt her departure and resisted the urge to follow Eloise. "Mistress has taken quite a liking to you." Lucile said standing across from Ginelle with her arms folded firmly in front of her.

Ginelle did not sense any animosity from the woman as she had from Ingrid but she sensed a protective layer that was unbreakable.

"Lucile." Eloise called from the door. "May I have a word with you?" Ginelle could sense the utter excitement in the lilt of her voice and wondered for a brief moment what sort of news she had received to bring on this sudden happiness.

Lucile stepped into the hall to observe her mistress' obvious cheerfulness and a dark brow rose as she asked, "I suspect the missive brought good news, than?"

"Yes, indeed." She cried with glee, "Dorian will be returning shortly. The missive was written nearly a sennight ago and his letter claims he would be arriving home in seven days, that day is tomorrow."

Lucile stiffened with anticipation as well as apprehension for their small guest. "Shall I inform the servants of his arrival?"

Eloise nodded, "Yes. I had not anticipated on an early homecoming. There is much that needs to be done."

A bath was prepared and Ginelle eagerly obliged as she stripped away her rags and stepped into the steaming water. Eloise was there at her side to wash her hair and help scrub her back. She couldn't remember the last time she had, had such a luxury. She was not unnerved by Eloise's presence and in fact, welcomed it as her new found guardian described the entails of becoming a civilized, well-educated woman.

"A formal education is customary. You will be taught the basics in reading and writing. You will study arithmetic and the art of music and dance. You will learn many languages. You will grow accustomed to polished manners that will prove accessible when you manage your husband's estate once you are married."

Ginelle stiffened at the mention of matrimony.

She had not given much thought to marriage and the thought of it made her stomach churn on the inside. What woman would submit herself to such imprisonment?

A man merely sought to control your every whim and thought. Nay, marriage was out of the question. She would never marry. She would not fall prey to another man so he could use his fist to silence her.

She quickly sought to change the subject. "How were ye taught to read and write?"

"I was sent to boarding school." Eloise fell silent as though she wanted to say more but turned away to retrieve a garment dispersed across the arm of the sofa. "I borrowed this from Ingrid until we can provide you with more suitable attire. She is not quite as small as you but will be adequate for the time being."

Ginelle reached out with hesitant hands to accept the gown. The cotton print dress was suitable considering her rank but immediately Eloise hastened as if to explain. "I could not find anything else that would fit your frame."

Ginelle knew it must have pained Ingrid terribly to have loan the gown to her. She must remember to thank her later though she was quite certain the maid wouldn't accept her gratitude.

"Let us not dally any longer than necessary. We have much to accomplish. We must find you a seamstress so that we may start on a wardrobe more fitting."

Ginelle wanted to tell Eloise that it wasn't necessary because she was not planning on staying for too long but she found that she seemingly enjoyed Eloise's presence. She enjoyed their conversations and most importantly, she never felt the need to tense when Eloise was near. She was devoid of her fears with Eloise at her side.

The dress was a smidge to big on her small frame but it offered warmth that her body had been denied from the rags that now lay discarded along the polished floor. The gown also provided a disguise from Pierino. He would not recognize her in a servant gown. Her disheveled hair now clean and combed had been pulled back into a plait, several strands slipping from their restraint to frame her face.

Eloise left the room momentarily and when she reappeared, she presented Ginelle with a velvet blue cloak and draped it around her shoulders. Ginelle lightly touched the material, marveling at its beautiful texture as they made their way down the hall. Ginelle was quick to notice the distaste etched into Ingrid's face and the scowl that deepened as the maid slipped by them.

She dropped her head, her hands entwining nervously against the skirt of Ingrid's dress. What had she done to displease Ingrid so? She pondered this as they made their way into the frigid air where they were greeted by an elderly coachman. He assisted them into the waiting carriage where Ginelle quickly settled into the leather seat and Eloise followed.

It wasn't until she realized their journey was leading them straight back into town that she felt that impending fear of Pierino rise. She suddenly had a shortness of breath and quickly turned her face to the window at her side. She closed her eyes against the sudden numbness seeping into her bones as her fingers curled painfully in her lap; her knuckles turning white from gripping them so tightly. What if he spotted her? Would he steal her from Eloise in broad daylight? The thought nearly made her choke on a sob at the dreaded fate that surely waited if she fell into Pierino's clutches.

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, jarring her to awareness. "There is nothing to fear." Eloise said softly, her eyes large and blue, revealing the deep sincerity there.

Ginelle smiled in hopes of convincing Eloise that she believed her, but as she turned to peer out the window and the familiar perimeter of town came into view, she felt her heart thrust inside her chest along with a deep sense of foreboding dread.

Eloise spent the next several hours skimming through yards of fabric. She selected various materials that included muslin and silk and beautiful ribbons to adorn her hair. Before she knew it, she had everything she would have never dreamed of possessing. After getting her measurements, the seamstress started on a gown that fastened in the back and was made to fall around her ankles. Eloise explained that the cotton garment was a bed gown and Ginelle was relieved to know that she would not have to borrow Ingrid's any longer.

The seamstress described several printed and colored gowns with vertical bodices as Eloise listened intently while Ginelle remained cautious, careful to watch the passing bystanders outside the large window, fearful that she would see a frightening, familiar silhouette.

She was amazed that Eloise would go to such lengths to provide her with such a wardrobe. This list consisted of shifts and stays, gowns and petticoats including hats, shoes and all sorts of accessories, things she never imagined wearing.

When they left the seamstress with her extremely long list of needlework, Eloise took Ginelle's hand and they proceeded down the street. Somehow holding that larger hand in her own, she had a sense of belonging, self-worth. Eloise would never replace the mother she never knew, but Eloise had stepped in to care for an impoverished child, taking her under her care as if they were the dearest of kin. Just as quickly as that warmth spread through her chest, it rapidly diminished as a quick and rational thought came to mind. She would never rightfully belong with Eloise. She didn't belong in her world. She had been fearful of trusting a complete stranger yet somehow Eloise had quickly earned her trust and devotion, she had welcomed her into her aristocratic life without as much as a second thought.

Just as the merchant had called the previous day, she was naught but a street rat. A blacksmith's daughter abandoned to the streets. Her veins were not of an aristocratic blood and she was naught but an imposture at the Ashford manor. She now fully understood Ingrid's distaste and hatred. She was naught but a fraud to the maid and could she blame her? Why should Ingrid a maid, serve a lowly street rat?

Sensing something amiss, Eloise tugged lightly on Ginelle's hand, "What troubles you, sweeting?"

Ginelle paused, chewing on her lower lip before finally spilling her thoughts. "Ye have given me so much. I am not of privileged blood. I am not worthy of yer kindness."

"Is that what troubles you?" Eloise asked, perplexed. "Haven't you noticed that social rank is not of any importance to me? You tell me that it isn't right to dote on a child deprived of clothing and food, of shelter?" Eloise face altered with that all too familiar pain dwelling beneath the surface and she quickly concealed it from Ginelle's observant stare.